Vol. 3 Himself: Gilbert O'Sullivan

The duo of Adolf and Holiday by this point (my guess, Volume 3) have begun to reveal their purpose a bit more.  The following entry is fun, albeit a bit more scholarly, but does have a serious purpose: a clear desire to canonize soft rock artists who have been relegated to obscurity or, worse, dismissed as unimportant.

Holiday writes:
 
My friend, let's take a moment to consider one Gilbert O'Sullivan, born Raymond O'Sullivan in Waterford, Ireland on December 1, 1946.  O'Sullivan's first single, "Nothing Rhymed," became a Top Ten hit in the United Kingdom in 1970.  While certainly recognized for the wit and craft of his music, much of his early success was a result of his unusual image.  You may recall that he resembled a Dickensian street urchin, with boyish, bowl haircut; shabby, Eton suit; and flat, jeff cap (The impression the get-up made on a certain AC/DC guitarist cannot go without mention).  Please examine the attached image and notice the pre-punk "Oi!" written, with what likely was intended to resemble indelible ink, across the cover of 1972's Himself.

O'Sullivan finally broke through to the American market with the ballad "Alone Again (Naturally)," which topped the U.S. pop charts.  Around this time, the singer abandoned his urchin image in favor of collegiate sweaters embossed with the letter "G," and a coif that anticipated the soft rock perm of, say,  Leo Sayer or Gordon Lightfoot.  But this pre-post-modern image-making, this invention and re-invention of the self aside, Gilbert O'Sullivan confronted other issues of the "self" with irony and grace, a skill that revealed a deep wisdom and a timely taste for "formalism," the song as song, the artist as artist mind set that had surely reach the masses at the height of O'Sullivan's rise and subsequent fall from stardom. The lyrics of his instantly recognizable hit speak for themselves, confronting the disastrous mix of questionable sexual identity (again, the unmined AC/DC connection alluded to above) and marriage, along with a reluctant existentialism that would predate punk and hip hop by nearly a half-decade, post punk and new wave by much longer:

In a little while from now
If I'm not feeling any less sour
I promise myself to treat myself
And visit a nearby tower
And climbing to the top
To throw myself off
In an effort to make it clear to who-
ever what it's like when you're shattered
Left standing in the lurch
At a church with people saying "My God, that's 

tough, she stood him up 
"No point in us remaining"
"We may as well go home!"
As I did on my own
Alone again, naturally

To think that only yesterday

I was cheerful bright and gay 

Looking forward to - who wouldn't do?

The role I was about to play
And as if to knock me down
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch
Threw me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt

Talk about God in his mercy
Who if He really does exist
Why did He desert me
In my hour of need
I truly am indeed
Alone again, naturally
 
bridge:

It seems to me that there are more hearts

broken in the world

Than can be mended
Left unattended
What do we do?
What do we do?
  

Looking back over the years
And whatever else appears
I remember I cried when my father died
Never wishing to hide my tears
And at sixty-five years old
My mother, God rest her soul
Couldn't understand why the only man
She had ever loved had been taken
Leaving her to start
With a heart so badly broken
Despite encouragement from me
No words were ever spoken
When she passed away
I cried and cried all day 

Alone again naturally
Alone again...   naturally

Adolf coyly adds:
 
"I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, but heaven  knows I'm miserable now..." sang Morrissey on his 1984 Smiths single.  Growing up in Manchester, England, the young Stephen Patrick Morrissey surely was affected by the wry lyricism of O'Sullivan. One can picture the Moz now coddling his LP's and admiring the slim, boylike frame of the docile Irishman two decades his senior. Gilbert O'Sullivan, the man and his music, played an obvious role in developing the mid 80's androgyny-fueled melancholy music of Morrissey and The Smiths, not to mention the effect on near contemporaries like Marc Bolan and the Thin White Duke.  The image of the Moz writhing in his romantic, sexual ambiguity projects a direct artistic lineage to Gil O'Sul's pensive stare on the 1970 U.S. debut album cover.  The boylike coif and sheepish grin hid a man capable of producing brilliant hits such as "Alone Again...Naturally"  Obviously, a young Stephen learned much from this seldom recognized hero of pop music.  I want our readers to know that the next time then listen to The Smiths or hear one of Moz's solo records they should think about this kid from Ireland in a university sweater, for it was his forbearance that made it possible for so many a fey rocker to make his mark in the world, in the key of G, in the key of G...

(Indeed, indeed. - ed.)